Tortured SoulA Poem by Isabelle FayeI just started writing it at midnight because the first stanza suddenly came to me as I was doing something else. I'm afraid the poem doesn't make much sense, I'm sorry.She was never really here anyways, Always looking for an escape, Anything she could to get away.
I guess she finally found it one day, All her wandering would pay, Her life was in disarray.
The words I don’t want to say, The way she took her life away, Always running from her mistakes.
Build her up, Tear her down, Watch her crumble to the ground, No way back, No way out.
Take a mirror and spin it ‘round, See yourself gazing down, She looks like you, somehow.
The knife that taunts and scars your face, There’s no way you can escape, From all the hurt and all the pain.
Days will come and they will go, Time will pass fast and slow, You try so hard to stay afloat.
She was never really here anyways, Always looking for an escape, Anything she could to get away.
She lived in the past with her mistakes, The present tense she can’t explain, To live in the present, to dance with pain.
A tightrope thin line she rode, Wobble one side, go to slow, Stuck in an all-time low.
Well, her world came crashing down, Turrets tumbling to the ground, Her mental castle’s breaking now.
And with that one, that thin blade, She decided her fate, She wasn’t going to stay.
Take a mirror and spin it ‘round, See yourself gazing down, She looks like you, somehow.
Look at the knife, look at the ground, Look at your arm, blood spurting out. It’s too late to save you now. Water and wine become one, Mixing together, they come undone, It can’t be stopped once it’s begun.
She was never really here anyways, Always looking for an escape, Anything she could to get away. © 2012 Isabelle FayeAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorIsabelle FayeAboutHi! My pen name is Isabelle Faye but you can call me Isabelle or Belle for short. I'm an under 18 year old writer from the United States. I write both poetry and books/novels but the latter tend to pr.. more..Writing
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